"I'm cursed by some… Demon-God?"
The words of the merchant rattled inside his skull, refusing to leave.
"Where are your friends?"
Ravyn jerked around. The same shady merchant from before was standing by his stall.
"You'll die out there if you go alone..." the merchant said. "You look like a fresh soul and that makes you prey."
Ravyn frowned. "Then what should I do?"
The man's gaze swept him over and then he reached under his stall and pulled out a folded bundle of rags. He tossed it at Ravyn.
"Here's some clothes, it's nothing much but better than looking like some newborn wretch."
Ravyn caught them. He glanced up, uncertain. "You're… helping me?"
The merchant's mouth twitched like the word itself was foreign. "Don't mistake this for kindness, boy. I don't like staring at bare flesh while I eat."
Ravyn muttered a flat,"Thanks anyway." under his breath and tugged the patched clothes on over the cloak.
Next, the merchant produced a rusted blade no longer than Ravyn's forearm. Its edge was chipped, its handle wrapped in rotting cloth.
"Take this."
Ravyn frowned down at it. "This thing wouldn't cut bread."
The merchant grunted. "But it's better than fighting with your teeth."
Ravyn reluctantly slipped the knife through the sash of his cloak.
Finally, the man dug into a box beneath the counter and pulled out a strange bronze disk. In its center was a black needle that spun wildly until the merchant held it still.
"This is worth more than your worthless hide but I'll hand it over. Call it… parting gift."
Ravyn took it carefully. "What is it?"
"An enchanted compass. You whisper where you want to go and it'll guide you but remember…" His eyes burned into Ravyn's. "…tools can't save a fool. Be careful where you whisper."
Ravyn nodded slowly, clutching it.
"Thank you so much, sir." Ravyn asked.
The man leaned close, his breath stinking of ash. "I've only ever heard legends... about the cursed" His gaze hardened. "But today, I got see one with my own two eyes. So thank you."
Ravyn nodded then turned to leave.
He stepped out of Hovkon with the setting glow of the ember-lit market behind him. The compass was heavy in his hand. He held it close, whispering under his breath:
"Khosu Forest."
The needle spun then clicked into place, pointing east through the jagged black trees.
Ravyn adjusted the knife on his hip and began walking. The forest swallowed him quickly.
Hours passed.
Ravyn's legs ached but he didn't stop. His mind buzzed with questions. The words tangled until he couldn't tell if he was thinking or hallucinating.
The sky was locked in a red haze, never darkening and never brightening. But the air grew colder.
He stumbled into a small clearing where the dirt dipped, forming a hollow. It wasn't much but it shielded him from the shrieking winds that had begun to rise.
Ravyn fell to his knees, dragging together sticks and broken bark. After a dozen failed attempts, he managed to spark a flame. The fire sputtered to life.
He sat close, hands extended, watching the flames lick upward. His thoughts turned bitter.
"This how I'm supposed to live now? So much for wanting a a normal life."
He pulled out the compass, holding it near the fire. The needle still pointed east. The Khosu Forest was out there, waiting.
"Baba Yaga…" he muttered. "If you've got the answers, then I'm coming for them. I don't care if you're insane. You'll tell me what this curse means and how I can get back to the living."
His voice shifted, his rage bleeding through.
"And when I do… I'll burn them. Every last one of them who sold me and sent into this hell hole."
The flames crackled louder, dancing with his words. Ravyn leaned back at last, resting his head with his eyes smoldering with a hate that refused to die.
And slowly, he closed his eyes.